


Your Secret Might Be Safe With Me

by Laurasauras



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Fights, M/M, Trollstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-06 05:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17933423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: There's only one troll John hates, and he can't stay away.





	Your Secret Might Be Safe With Me

Most sensible land-dwellers keep away from the beach. You know, because they enjoy living (or don't have an active cull-wish, anyway). Enough idiots have gone too close over the years that there is a lot of interesting stuff to be found, though, and John is big and strong enough to fight the kind of sea-dweller that comes into the shallows. And probably the kind that lurks in the deeps, too, though he isn't too keen to test that unless he really has to.

The ocean is really beautiful, anyway, especially when the moons are full and their pink and green light dance and blend on the gentle surf. Almost worth the potential injury just for that. The treasures are another tick in the worth it column. But the biggest reason is that it pisses Bro off really nicely.

John hasn't been the luckiest guy with his quadrants. He knows other trolls that have similar strength to him manage to keep it somewhat contained and have low-blood relationships just fine, but he always forgets, and he really doesn't like hurting most people.

He _likes_ hurting Bro.

He sees a plastic bottle on the beach and dutifully captchalogues it. It isn't for the benefit of sea-dwellers, even though that's reason enough. He loves the Empress as much as the next guy. It's more because that's how Bro explains away his closeness to the sea, and he hates it when anyone piggy-backs onto his excuses.

Which is why John does it. And it's why he pretends not to see anything wrong with it. It's why if anyone asked, he'd deny even _having_ a kismesis. He'd pretend that everything he does to rankle the bronze-blood is just a coincidence, that he can't help that Bro's touchy.

Bro really isn't touchy for anyone but John. It's the best feeling in the world to be hated with such exclusion.

It's only 20 minutes after finding the bottle (20 minutes of John honestly looking at the view more than for litter or treasure) that Bro surfaces from the water, clothes clinging to him and dripping heavily in a way that makes John's bloodpusher miss a beat and his sheath swell.

His hair is slicked back like it never is around other trolls, revealing the earfins that he'd be culled for. John grins at him as if they're in cahoots, two guys on the same team. Bro glares in response.

'The fuck are you doing?' Bro snarls.

'It's not just you that cares about pollution!' John says, waving an crumpled package that he picked up fairly recently.

'I absolutely was _not_ inviting your company.'

'You weren't?' John asks, widening his eyes innocently. He loves this, he loves this part so much. He never has to move first, Bro always comes to him and it's magic.

'Fuck off, Egbert,' Bro says. 'You come, they'll all get it in their heads. They follow you like baby quackbeasts.'

'You know, the state of the ocean really is a vital issue. The seadwellers don't deserve to live in bad conditions, especially not the _Heiress_ and we should all do our part, don't you think? Why _wouldn't_ you want our friends to come help?'

Bro growls, a delicious noise that goes straight to John's bulge. He bites down on his own response. He's not done playing.

'Is that violet on your shirt?' John asks innocently. 'I haven't seen that sign before. Do you have a moirail you haven't told us about?'

In those clothes, with those teeth and fins and the _attitude_ , Bro looks exactly the part of a sea-dweller. So long as no one gets stab happy with him or close enough to see the bronze in his irises, he can swim as much as he likes. John isn't sure if his colour is the mutation or if it's the sea-characteristics, but it doesn't matter. The colour is the important part. He's impersonating royalty almost every night and he'd be culled in seconds for it. He's lucky John finds it funner while he's alive.

He stalks closer to John until they're within arms reach of each other.

'I should kill you,' Bro hisses.

'Probably,' John shrugs. 'Don't know that you could. I'm pretty strong! And then you'd have to come up with a really good reason, 'cause, you know …' John points with a slightly self-deprecating smile towards his sign, inked on his shirt in blue.

Bro glares at John's chest as if his sign has personally offended him. John holds back a grin as he continues.

'Hey, at least mine matches!' He digs his claws into his palm and then uncurls them, holding up his hand to show the blue blood that runs through his veins. With a careless slash to Bro's face, John lets his bronze blood drip down his chin and onto his sea-dweller disguise.

Bro looks slowly down at his now bloody shirt and then back up at John. John feels his pusher speed up inside his chest. He looks so dangerous and he hates John so much. John hates him too, hates him enough to comb the beach for litter, hates him enough to drive away his friends so that he can do this alone. Because Bro's right. Jade offered to help, of course she did, and then Dave said he'd tag along as well and before John knew it he had to tell them firmly to back the fuck off.

If Rose had been there she would have taken it upon herself to follow anyway, it's in her nature, but Dave and Jade are easy enough to cow. It's rare enough that John brings up the hemospectrum that they knew he meant business.

'Is there a reason you're not killing me?' Bro asks, each word enunciated with barely-controlled rage. John can't help but take a step closer, his fury is so inviting.

'Dave might be slightly put out,' John says.

Bro's eyes narrow further. He and Dave haven't been moirails in a long while, it was a shitty as fuck relationship, but no one is supposed to talk about how last time Dave mentioned he was low on caegars and was looking for a way to get some for food, a cholerbear turned up freshly beheaded on his doorstep the next morning. Of all their friends, only Bro and Dave use swords. Maybe it was a coincidence. But Dave sure made good use of the meat, wherever it came from.

John smiles at him pleasantly while Bro attempts to control his temper. When Bro was a wiggler, he caused himself a lot of trouble getting fired up at the smallest offence. Now he has a thin white scar in the dark grey of his neck and no one can bait him to strike first anymore. Well, no one but John.

John pokes his tongue out at him, his eyes crinkling with mischief. He knows he looks smug. That's the whole point.

Bro snaps and swings his fist even faster than his sylladex can track, turning what could have been a decapitation into a punch to John's throat. He catches his katana on the follow through and John has to tackle him before he gets stabbed for real.

Bro doesn't drop his blade when John slams him into the sand. He might look the part of a prince, but he's bronze-blooded in his core and he doesn't have a sylladex full of back-up weapons. There's a reason your clade has a running joke that he's flushed for his sword. He isn’t dropping it unless his whole hand is coming off.

But John doesn't need him to drop it, he just needs to be too close for him to be able to use it effectively. And once he stops blocking the punches Bro is throwing and pins his wrists it'll go even better.

Bro doesn't make it easy for him, though. And really, John would be disappointed in him if he did. What's the use in a rival that he can overpower easily? Well, there would be some use in not feeling Bro's knee bruise him in the ribs as he knocks him off to his side. John rolls away just in time for the katana to only graze him, equipping his two handed hammer and swinging it at Bro with all his weight.

Bro dodges, predictably. They both scramble to his feet. Bro stabs his katana into the sand and jumps at John. John grins at him as he catches him under his shins and holds him to his hips. John can feel Bro’s bulge against his for one sweet moment.

'You fucking idiot,' Bro says, before grabbing John's horn with one hand and punching him right on the cheekbone with the other.

John drops him, feeling at his face warily. Not broken, but definitely bruised. He lets out a growl of his own, the noise catching on his throat. He doesn't growl for anyone else. It's funnier if people think he's untouchable. He hopes to be the first blueblood laughssassin after his adult moult.

He's really quite good at being quiet. He's even better at laughing. And there's nothing funnier than bludgeoning someone with a rainbow hammer and seeing their blood fly everywhere.

But Bro fucks up his control, makes him abandon church to stalk him and breaks his whimsy. It makes John so mad. He hates Bro, hates him more than anyone, hates him more than is safe. If Bro wasn't a fucked up mutant, John probably couldn't trust himself not to kill him accidentally. Given that he's a fucked up mutant, John probably should kill him regardless. He hates that the first troll he's felt something real with is making him betray his duty to Alternia.

‘You sound real pretty when you’re pitch,’ Bro taunts. He knows John doesn’t do this for anyone but him. It’d cut deeper if bronze wasn’t starting to drip through his jeans. John doesn’t miss the way he’s pacing a circle with John in such a way that’s taking him closer to his katana again. 

‘What’re you gonna do about it?’ John asks. He almost sounds friendly.

‘Gonna let you suck my bulge and tell me if it tastes violet or bronze, I’ve always wondered.’

Bro finally gets in reach of his katana again and reaches back for it. John uses the opening to lunge at him to tackle him to the ground again. Bro punches at John, but it’s weaker than it was last time and John pins him almost easily. 

Almost like he’s cool with being beaten. That’s … not how kismesissitude is supposed to go. It should be a total bulgewilt, seeing his rival letting him _win_ like this. John’s bulge apparently does not give a shit about classic quadrant behaviour because it’s writhing like a slitherbeast on bug-juice.

‘I could let you go right now, couldn’t I?’ John says. ‘I could let you go, take my clothes off, fucking _fold_ them and still be the one to get my bulge in you.’

Bro makes a token effort to throw John off, but it’s actually pathetic. John could handle _much_ more than this. 

‘Fuck you,’ Bro spits.

John grins with all his teeth and lets go. Bro’s eyes widen with shock and hate. He doesn’t shift. 

John calmly takes off his shirt. 

Okay, maybe he’s ready to admit he has a kismesis.


End file.
